


Unfair

by PrincessGemma12



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Gift Fic, Hurt Leonardo (TMNT), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Michelangelo (TMNT), Splinter Lived, Turtlecest (TMNT), Unhealthy Relationships, Vampire Raphael
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:35:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessGemma12/pseuds/PrincessGemma12
Summary: There's something wrong with Leo--if only Mikey could figure out what!Linked to, but not canon to, "Siren's Song." Takes place around the same time as the unwritten middle of that fic. Possible spoiler warnings. For my friendo, who needs Mikey comforting someone.
Relationships: Leonardo & Michelangelo (TMNT), Leonardo/Raphael (TMNT)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Unfair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrightLotusMoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightLotusMoon/gifts).



Leonardo knew that life wasn’t fair. He knew this by the time he was six, maybe even before. It showed in the temper tantrums he’d throw when a child on the mutant family’s “new” TV got the simplest of things: a clean, new blanket or stuffie, a yummy-looking apple or bowl of cereal. He didn’t have any of that so young, nor did he have lots of toys or friends (or any for that matter). His father was as hard-working and kind as any on TV ever was, if not more, and ten times as cool, so why didn’t he and his brother’s have the same things as the kids on TV? Why didn’t they even have the same niceties that pet turtles had? Despite his young mind, he grasped this concept of separation and unfairness quickly and not without several mouthfuls of salt, so to speak.

He knew the world was unfair when April’s father was first kidnapped by the Kraang, and then when Donnie fell for April for real but without reciprocation. He knew that life wasn’t just when April was faced with the conflict of being a normal girl and having a normal relationship with a normal guy or living two lives in a relationship with someone who understood her in every sense, who would stick by her so long as she stuck by him. He knew when his family was forced apart by aliens on more than one occasion. There were so many other instances that just  _ proved  _ how completely and utterly inequitable the universe was. So many that by the time all was said and done, when the Shredder was dead and gone, Tiger Claw’s cult and all the other bad guys were put away or run into hiding, Leo truly believed he’d never have a happy ending, that he and his brothers were doomed to a punishment for some unknown crime against the universe, against existence itself. Irrational, perhaps, but then he never claimed to have rational insecurities and fears.

It may be that this belief was the very reason he found himself so confused and elated when Raphael made his move all those years ago, at a time when not even clever and beautiful April could figure out a way to have a decent romantic relationship with someone. It wasn’t official, his and Raph’s little secret, nor was it physically serious, but it held so much importance to the both of them, so many silent promises of future happiness and current love. It was something look forward to when they were alone, a hand they could hold for comfort without embarrassment. It gave them both a little bit of fairness in their lives, a little good to all the bad they lived with, and it only got better as they got older—the scattered kisses they shared as teens grew passionate when they occurred, sparked heat low in their bellies that drew their attention but never demanded it. They were slow and deep and filled with small pleasured whimpers and happy churrs, the urge to grope and explore quiet and calm.

As teenhood faded into adulthood, the threats faded. There were still gangs and other common-place criminals but none so pressing and dangerous that the turtles and their companions couldn’t focus on themselves. So they did, and Raph asked Leo on a date. Two weeks later, they went on another date. Then another and another and another, and soon they were calling themselves a couple. Their kisses became constant and addictive, that little spark turned into a flame that neither could nor wanted to ignore. They made love, and then they made love again and again, whenever and more-or-less  _ wherever  _ they wanted.

The only thing missing from their relationship was some PDA and parent-child conversations about their partner’s supposedly guaranteed parenting skills. They needed to tell their family and friends.

Then the eldest turtles were kidnapped and Raphael was experimented on. Leo didn’t like to think about what happened during those weeks, about the almost lifeless way his lover had lain in that tub.

That was almost a whole year ago and nearly as long since Raphael had woken up. Now, a part of Leo was starting to wonder if things really had worked out for the best, if having a blood-thirsty Raph was better than not having him at all…

“Surprise, surprise, bro!” Michelangelo sang cheerily as he plopped down on the rock beside the elder turtle. “I got Raph some rabbits, ya’ think he’ll like ‘em? They’re a lil’ different from his usual pigeons but, they’ll probably taste better, right?” He held up the trash bag in his hand, the white plastic tainted red in some spots. “Figured I’d give your neck a break, huh?”

“Yeah…” Leo whispered hoarsely, voice worn from overuse. “Yeah, that’ll be great.”

Mikey smirked at him then, a twinkle of mirth in his bright eyes. “Late night, Leo?” he giggled.

Wincing, the leader— _ leader _ , right, could he even call himself  _ that  _ anymore?—averted his eyes, guilt and shame mixing into a knot in his stomach. He couldn’t stop the thought that it felt better than the terrible satisfaction he felt when Raphael last took him. “Yeah… yeah, Raph was restless. Freaking  _ tired _ .” his voice, weak as it already was, cut out on the last word, making it less than a whisper. A deep flush of humiliation coated his beak down to his shoulders, making him more brown and purple than his usual forest green.

Mikey saw this, despite his elder’s best attempts to hide it, and reached a hand out to comfort him. “Hey, man, c’mon.” He murmured, hoping to soothe with his quiet tone. “I’m just kidding around, bro, there’s nothing wrong with it.” he rubbed a hand over Leonardo’s upper shell, noting the new cracks and scratches there. He pretended not to notice the flinch that rocked Leo’s body forward.

_ What’s  _ that  _ about? _

Leo nodded, sealing a smile onto his face as he turned back to his brother. “I’m fine, Mike.” He tried not to wince as his voice continued to give out. “Really.”

The youngest Hamato was good at three main things, in no particular order: 1.) eating; 2.) Ninja-ing; and 3.) reading his family. Right now, as his eldest brother stood to walk away with the bag of rabbits, Michelangelo decided he needed to use the third ability.

The oldest turtle had changed quite a bit since Raphael was changed—he became more confident and outgoing socially, then he began to slip back into a mindset similar to the one he harbored when they were teens. He walked proudly in stance and posture, but not in attitude. His shoulders drooped until someone walked up to him or looked at him. He was constantly and endlessly seeking out other’s approval—but, unlike when they were kids, he sought it most from Raphael, not Splinter. In fact, if one thought about it, Leonardo spent most of his time pleasing Raphael—like a dog pleading for its human to be happy with it, to not take its toys away…

_ “I can’t today, I’m sorry… _ ” That’s what Leo had said when Karai asked him to spare last week. Right after Raph carted his mate off in the minute following what seemed to everyone else a pretty nasty quarrel. Leo loved sparring, especially with Karai, one of his most challenging partners.

Did Raph take his toy away? Could he even  _ do that? _ The burly turtle did tell him earlier in the summer that Leo could “ground him”—a metaphor, Mikey was sure, but that would mean  _ Raph  _ could “ground”  _ Leo _ in turn.

Right?

_ This relationship stuff is confusing…  _ Shaking his head as his brother walked—no.  _ Limped  _ off. Leo was  _ limping _ .

Mikey’s eyes widened as he zeroed in on the swordsman’s legs, particularly his thighs: forest green (if a shade darker given the sun they’d been exposed to lately) as always, but dotted with splotchy purple bruises that looked like claws wrapping around from the back to the sides. Even his tiny tail, tucked tightly into the crook between his legs, was an off-raisin color.  _ What the…? _

He reached a hand out as if to stop the other turtle, thought better of it, and let the appendage fall back to the ground.

It wasn’t until the next day that he got his second clue as to what was going on with Leo. The turtle had been first seen in the kitchen with Raphael, according to Miwa, and then in the bathroom, brushing his teeth. Apparently, he was extremely “pissy” when the kunoichi brought up the fact that he hadn’t eaten yet.

“I don’t know why he got so weird about it,” she claimed. “All I did was say he must’ve been having a good morning—I guess I thought wrong, huh?”

It was beyond unusual for the turtle. Normally if someone made a joke about the leader in blue’s sex life, he’d blush and either confirm the claim or deny it—whichever was appropriate. He didn’t lie about his and Raphael’s relationship, not even when it came down to the most intimate details—if someone asked him what his favorite blowjob trick was, he’d tell without shame, if not without embarrassment.

No one wanted to know how the hot-headed reptile had gotten him to be so shyly shameless, given the way he smirked whenever he was in hearing range of one such situation. Whatever the case, he was entirely proud of himself.

The case warranted intense investigation by Mikey himself, as well as his other top sleuth: April O’Neil.

“No.”

“Please!?”

“ _ No _ .”

“Aprillll!”

“ _ No! _ ” the  _ kunoichi  _ snapped angrily. She put her hands on her hips, glaring at the youngest turtle with all the fire of Dante’s Inferno. “I refuse to stick my nose in someone else’s relationship and  _ you  _ shouldn’t either.”

Staring imploringly, blue eyes wide and arms stretched out as if to gesture at some unknown object or place. “They need help, April, but Leo won’t admit it and Raph’s pretending nothing’s happening at all!”

April rolled her eyes, cocking an eyebrow disbelievingly. “Raph and Leo  _ never  _ lied about their relationship before, why would they start now? They were perfectly fine an hour ago—I caught them making out by the lake.” she laughed a little at that.

“You did?” Mikey said breathlessly. He was ridiculously, incredibly confused now!

“Yes,” she sighed. The psychic wrapped her arms around him, tucking her head under his chin. “I know Leo’s been a little off lately…” she started softly. “But he and Raph are  _ fine _ . Why would you think otherwise?” she pulled away to look him in the eye, questioning gently.

He felt a small tug at the back of his mind and relented, allowing his friend to venture into his immediate thoughts. There was pizza—his dinner meal plans for the night—and some sort of smoothie recipe, but then darker thoughts, scared theories about some sort of bruising on their leader. A few of the more frantic, harder to follow thoughts related to the turtle in red and SVU-like circumstances. Most of them, however, were related to the leader’s past depression and self-worth issues. Those, to her, were the most relevant.

“So… you think Leo’s sinking back into depression?” she asked slowly, carefully. She wasn’t going to ask where the abuse theories came from—she had enough crazy theories being rammed into her head from Donnie, she didn’t need them from Mikey, too.

“I don’t  _ know _ , April!” the nunchuck wielder wailed dramatically. He was being over-dramatic, yes, but she saw and felt the genuine concern underneath. That was what was important.

“I’ll…” she sucked in a breath, then released it slowly with an eye roll. “I’ll talk to him, maybe I can wiggle something out of—” she was cut off by two strong lime green arms wrapped around her, nearly knocking her over. “ _ Ah _ !”

“ _ Thankyouthankyouthank _ , you don’t know how worried I’ve been all day,  _ thankyouthankyou _ !”

Mikey ran off in an excited (and not-so-secretly worried) skip and hop. April was left dumbfounded and gaping. The relief that had washed over her without her having even finished her sentence was tremendous, more intense than even what Donatello had felt when she forgave him for “mutating her father”—she realized now that it wasn’t really the turtles’ fault, and especially not Donnie’s!—but not so absolute. It was tinged and burning with worry.

The psychic pondered on her interaction with and the behavior of the orange-banded turtle. He had started off hesitant and nervous, like he thought someone was listening to them—absurd, perhaps, but so very Mikey. Once she denied his request for her to put her nose where it didn’t belong, he became noisy and pleading, like a spoiled puppy. It annoyed and concerned her in equal amounts, but at the moment she found herself more troubled than anything.

The next time Mikey encountered Leonardo, he was curled around a dozing Raphael, the vampire’s torso resting in the leader’s lap, head pillowed on a leaf green thigh. Mikey decided to chance a close inspection—and minor inquiry.

“Heeey, bro.” he greeted in quietly mocked cheeriness. “How ya’ doin’? I know you weren’t feeling so well the other day…”

Leo’s eyes snapped to him as he spoke but they weren’t right. Blue, certainly, but dull and lifeless and bloodshot… and puffy.

“Are you crying?” Mike squeaked. A lime green hand reached for the elder turtle, only to be stopped by something so fast and strong the youngest ninja couldn’t help but see darkness and charred bone and—

“Don’t,” Raphael growled in his face, snapping him out of the low-key flashback. “Touch.”

Mikey gulped and cowed at the white lids, instinct overriding his need to care for his family. There was a predator much bigger and stronger than him, and he needed to get away from it!

Raph settled back on his turtle, not bothering to make sure Michelangelo was doing as told. Gazing over his shoulder, Mikey felt the hot flashes of  _ wrong bad danger fight flee  _ like physical burns in his chest. He’d always had a fear of Raphael, deep down in his core, where he was merely an animal trying to survive, and he’d learned to listen to it when it spoke to him. It was speaking and he knew better than to argue.

Soon after that, April reported a suspicious confrontation with the leader, one in which he clung to her like a wet bathing suit while on a walk—a sort of double date between her and Donnie, and the two elder terrapins. Apparently, while Raph tried desperately to make a show of affection, Leo seemed incredibly put-off by the demonstrations. Bizarre as it was to her, she was more concerned with the way the sai-wielder’s eyes flashed with dangerous wanting and fury when Leonardo denied his hand a place on his leaf green hip.

“It was like they were having a fight, almost,” she claimed. “But Raph wanted it to be over, despite still being angry about it, and Leo didn’t think they’d sat on it long enough. It was  _ weird _ .”

Despite this, April didn’t press the matter with the turtles themselves. “I won’t get anywhere with both of them still so tense, Mikey.” she’d explained calmly. “I’m concerned, too, but it’ll go over better if we give them a little more time to work things out.”

Mikey, however, didn’t like this. In fact, it freaking  _ scared him _ , but maybe that was all the crazy theories he’d had roaming his brain all day. Things just  _ weren’t adding up _ . He was no scientist, no researcher, not like Donnie, not even like April, but he  _ knew his family, dammit _ , and he knew something was wrong between his elder brothers.

And it had to do with Raph’s treatment of Leo.

Of course, he couldn’t tell anyone else that, they’d never believe him. They’d say, “Raph is  _ amazing  _ to Leonardo, treats him like a prince!” or “Raph would never mistreat Leo, he loves the guy too much!” Or some other phrase of trust that defended the brute of a turtle. But Raphael, Michelangelo knew, was just that: a brute. Even Leo had admitted that his partner “got rough sometimes.” Maybe the sai-wielder was just having trouble with the vampire strength? Maybe his instincts were clashing, as they sometimes did for the turtles, and he found himself in a frenzy before either lover realized it? That would definitely explain the bruises—they had faster healing than humans did, so any flesh wounds Leonardo collected during a “night alone,” so to speak, would be mostly, if not completely, healed within the next twenty-four hours or so, right? But that still didn’t explain why the two were so  _ touchy  _ about things!

“I need more data!” the nunchaku-wielder declared, shattering the silence that had followed April’s decision. “How often do those two spend time alone together?”

Incredulously, April glared at the baby of the mutant family but gave nonetheless. “Every day? Every few hours, I guess? Why?”

Nodding, Mikey concluded that it would be likely for Leo to have a limp if he was having daily less-than-gentle sex. Shinni hadn’t exactly been chomping at the bit for exercise when she’d first been with  _ him _ , after all—and Mikey had been gentle!—but still had some soreness after their first few times together. It was less often now that she felt any pain afterword, but Mike figured it’d be reasonable for Leo to sore after being with Raph—he was twice the leader’s size in height and weight; it wasn’t a leap to assume  _ other  _ parts of him were equally proportioned— _ especially  _ if the latter was rough. The turtle was only a turtle, after all, and Raph was a strong guy without the vamp strength. The full potential of the sai wielder’s power was only to be imagined, and Mikey guessed that only a tiny fraction of that power was ever put to use, despite him being able to break an entire tree apart with his bare hands.

To have even an itty bitty bit of that energy focused on such a small part of the body must be frightening, even if it wasn’t painful. But in Leo’s case, in the long-run, it seemed to be.

With a gasp of realization, Mikey turned on his heel and headed for the woods, where he knew he could get his brother alone. He pulled out his T-Phone as April called out to him.

“Mikey! Mikey, hang on, what is it?!”

“Can’t talk, April!” he cried, punching in a text message to his brother. “Gotta talk to Leo!”

Huffing in exasperation, April watched him disappear through the trees, a hand on her hip. “Turtles, man…” she shook her head slowly, a fond smile threatening to spoil her agitation.

Mikey walked briskly, deftly avoiding fallen limbs and sticks that would make noise. It wasn’t on purpose like it had been his first trip here to the farmhouse, but rather second-nature, another layer of instinct. He typed rapidly as he strode toward his destination.

_ You: i need to talk to you about something personal. alone. meet me by the pond dont bring raph. _

It was sometime before he received a response, but it wasn’t from Leo.

_ Red: He’s busy; you gotta wait. _

Cheeks puffed out in annoyance, Mike replied swiftly:

_ You: i need him right now it’s important! _

Raphael’s answer was a crudely-shot homemade porno clip and a snarky repetition of his littlest brothers’ claim.

It was all Mikey could do not to block his brother, but he’d received his fair share of lectures on the topic of “The Importance of Being Able to Communicate with Allies and Family in Times of Great Need or Peril” more than enough times to simply delete the message and stuff the device back in his belt. He could wait. Leo would be there soon, he always was when a brother or friend needed him.

Despite Mikey’s surety on the matter, Leonardo was not, in fact, at the pond anytime that day. In fact, he seemed to now be avoiding Michelangelo completely if his behavior the next day was anything to go by (which it was).

All of Mike’s attempts at luring the leader out to the pond were thwarted by the protective Guard Raph, or ignored completely by the turtle in blue. Nothing he said could convince the swordsman to accompany him on a walk, just the two of them, and nothing he did could get the vampire to leave his mate’s side. It was as annoying as it was stressful.

At length, it took the youngest Hamato about a week before he cracked.

It was in the middle of breakfast when all immediate members of their clan were seated together in the living room. Mikey had taken one look at the bruises lining his brother’s legs and had snapped, charging over and grasping the turtle’s arm, then dragging him (literally,  _ dragging him _ ) out of the house and to the pond before anyone could so much as blink. The absence of a shadowy tail told Mikey that Raph, who had been gorging himself on a rather large groundhog, hadn’t noticed his favorite reptile’s abduction.  _ Good. _

Once to the pond, Mikey pushed Leo down to sit on the muddy bank, unaware and uncaring of the gooey consistency of the seat. The orange-banded terrapin was sat beside him in less than a second after, holding the leader’s arm in a vice grip. “ _ We need to talk _ .”

There was no room in his voice for argument, something the other turtles rarely heard, thus compelling the eldest to sit and listen. “I’m listening.”

Leo’s face was impassive, purposely emotionless. Blank. He gave no reaction when Mike began speaking, despite the hope and relief that bloomed inside his chest.

“I’ve been really worried about you, bro, and I think I figured out what’s wrong.” a hand found its way to a leaf green shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. Despite the comfort and affection that small gesture brought upon the leader, he still felt a cold pit in his stomach when Mikey continued. “Dude, if Raph’s having problems he doesn’t wanna talk about, you gotta tell somebody.”

Mikey watched silently, eyes pleading and confused as his leader’s face fell, his deep blue eyes deadening depressingly. What was wrong with him? Had Mikey come to an incorrect conclusion? Was Raph not involved at all?

“Leo?” the freckled mutant begged. “Talk to me, please… you gotta tell me what’s wrong—’cause I’m wrong, aren’t I? It’s not about Raph, is it?”

Leo gave no sign of answering, seemingly preferring to examine the water in front of them. Any other time, Mike wouldn’t have blamed him, but this was a serious matter and he needed his brother’s attention. The turtle clearly wants to be left alone now, but Mikey grabs his other shoulder, wide eyes pleading.

“Leo,  _ please _ .”

The leader’s eyes slid over to his. “You remember when we were younger, the first time we were here?” he asked softly.

Mikey nodded enthusiastically, keeping quiet.

“Raph and I had a… incident one night.” the words came slowly, but the orange banded turtle could only be grateful he was being answered. “It wasn’t anything serious but it freaked us both out… Raph and I were snuggled up together and we’d fallen asleep. We woke up in a…  _ compromising  _ position.” Mikey’s face darkened slightly, eyes blinking wide as he registered his brother’s meaning. “Raph wanted to—to  _ be with me _ but I didn’t… I wasn’t ready for that, mentally or physically and we both knew it. He…”

Speech seemed to fail him as he lost himself to what was clearly a vivid memory—a close memory. It made Michelangelo wonder how long before that first trip the two eldest turtles had been into each other, really. He suspected Raph had always wanted their older brother’s attention, in some way or another.

“Leo…” the youngest started hesitantly, snapping the other out of his reverie. “Please.”

Nodding once and looking back to the water, Leonardo spoke to fishes. “He kissed me—it was… rough and more than I was ready for, but he got up and covered himself with a blanket and he walked out. He kissed me and walked out of the room with a blanket around his shell because I wasn’t ready. He didn’t need me to say anything—I  _ didn’t  _ say anything. He just knew. He knew I was gonna say ‘no’ and he listened without being told.” Oceanic eyes lifted to the treetops. “That’s how it’s always been. How it always  _ was _ .” his voice broke into a soft sob on the last word, a tear soaking his mask. “It’s different now…”

With that last declaration, the leader’s eyes went blank and expressionless, face turning stony. It was as if someone—or something?—else was controlling him as he rose and walked (presumably) back to the farmhouse. Mikey stuttered a protest as his brother walked listlessly, arms limp and head up.

“Leo?! Leo, wait, bro!”

Mikey didn’t see Leo for the rest of the day, but the family heard quiet sobs from the attic all night.


End file.
